<p>BEHAVIOUR OF FISH IN AN EGYPTIAN TEA GARDEN</p><p>As a white stone draws down the fish she on the seafloor of the afternoon draws down men's glances and their cruel wish for love. Slyly her red lip on the spoon slips-in a morsel of ice-cream; her hands white as a milky stone, white submarine fronds, sink with spread fingers, lean along the table, carmined at the ends.</p><p>A cotton magnate, an important fish with great eyepouches and a golden mouth through the frail reefs of furniture swims out and idling, suspended, stays to watch.</p><p>A crustacean old man clamped to his chair sits coldly near her and might see her charms through fissures where the eyes should be or else his teeth are parted in a stare.</p><p>Captain on leave, a lean dark mackerel lies in the offing, turns himself and looks through currents of sound. The flat-eyed flatfish sucks on a straw, staring from its repose, laxly.</p><p>And gallants in shoals swim up and lag, circling and passing near the white attraction; sometimes pausing, opening a conversation: fish pause so to nibble or tug.</p><p>Now the ice-cream is finished, is paid for. The fish swim off on business: and she sits alone at the table, a white stone useless except to a collector, a rich man.</p><p>Keith Douglas</p>